Looking out for a Spiderling
by StangeInterests32
Summary: In the aftermath of the Clash of the Avengers in Germany, Tony and his team find themselves licking their wounds - some more than others. But while Natasha tries to get her mind focused on some normalcy, she notices a young teenage boy, and finds herself thrust into a role she never imagined for herself.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I don't know if they've ever said that any of the Avengers besides Tony knew how young Peter was, but I always assumed that some of them might figure it out. This is how I think it might go if it was discovered.

Please enjoy...

* * *

Peter was still processing the whole battle. He was excited, a little nervous, somewhat scared – but mostly excited. He was in a fight with the Avengers. Or were they ex-Avengers, he thought. He was sitting in a German hospital, waiting for Happy to be able to get the car out of the hospital parking garage. With all the damage they done to the airport during the fight, it was a miracle that the car hadn't been totaled when it was parked there. He was watching video of the fight that had been leaked online from the security cameras. Oh my God, there I am, he thought giddily as he watched himself taking on Captain America. Oh, there I am, he thought as he cringed as he watched himself take a head-shot from Cap's shield.

He was so focused on watching the footage that he didn't notice that he was being watched from across the room. Natasha was leaning against the door frame, she already changed out of her Black Widow outfit and was back in her civilian clothes. There were plenty of people coming and going through the waiting room – doctors, nurses, security, police, military. None of them looked out of place. Not like this kid did as he sat on one of those uncomfortable chairs, watching his phone, smiling and cringing at whatever had his attention. She figured he was young, his vintage Super Mario shirt, a blue hoodie that looked a size too big, faded jeans, Chucks, and ear buds in his ears practically screamed teenager. She could also tell that he wasn't with any of the other adults in the room.

Since they were here because of Rhodes being brought here after the battle, the place was pretty much on lockdown. She knew only life or death emergencies were being let in, all others sent to other hospitals. All patients were confined to their rooms, the same being done to anyone who was visiting them when they got here. So there was no way that this random kid could be left to wander in here all alone without someone herding him off to where he should be.

Peter was replaying the footage of himself leaping from car to car as they were thrown at him by that girl who looked really familiar to him, he just couldn't place her at the moment. He was so engrossed in the footage that he didn't see the person sneaking up on him until he felt the tap to his shoulder. He fumbled his phone from the shock to his attention, looking up as he caught it quickly. Standing in front of him was…

"Black Widow," he said excitedly as he stood up. "I mean…random strange woman who've I've never met before…ever…before today," he added, mentally kicking himself for calling her by her superhero name, immediately closing his eyes. Smooth Parker, real smooth he thought.

Natasha heard his voice and immediately recognized it. A flash of anger rushed through her as she watched the young teen fidget in front of her, mostly due to the size of the black eye on his face. She nearly cringed when she saw that it covered a good quarter of his face. Tony, you piece of shit, she thought furiously. "You can call me, Natasha," she told him after reining in her emotions. "What's your name?"

"My name? Um…well, I'm not really supposed to…," Peter stammered as he remembered Tony's instruction to not try and be noticed too much.

Natasha pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him. Peter mumbled for a split second as he continued to try and nervously give a reason for _not_ answering her. Finally, when the mumbling stopped and he was silent, did Natasha remove her finger.

"Your name – please?"

"P-Peter. Peter Parker," he relented.

"How old are you?"

Peter looked away and toward the floor for a fleeting second. He knew he looked young. His voice didn't exactly help things either. But he was hoping that what she'd seen him do during the fight might make that question moot.

"How old are you?" Natasha repeated, this time a little firmer, but still trying to at least _sound_ gentle.

"Fifteen," he said sheepishly.

Natasha looked him over again and, once again, felt that flash of anger. She motioned for him to sit back down, which he did, albeit a little nervously. She then took the seat next to him and lightly grabbed his chin. She moved his head up and looked his black eye over. It was massive. One of the worst she had ever seen on anyone. That definitely came from Cap's shield, she reasoned as she remembered, even throughout all the melee and destruction going on around her, glimpsing him taking Steve on.

"Does that hurt?" she questioned him.

"Not too much," he replied. "It'll be gone by tomorrow probably." Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. "I heal kind of fast. I thinks it's my metabolism. All my senses dialed to ten, plus the, uh…the strength, speed. Plus, I eat a lot," he started rambling. Natasha just let him go on for a few more seconds, listening to him talk about how he practically eats like crazy sometimes to keep up his energy after a really big use of his powers.

"So are you hungry now?" Natasha interrupted him.

"Starting to," he told her.

"Before we deal with the food issue, are you hurt anywhere else? You took some pretty hard hits out there."

"Just…just my back, from when I got slammed into that jet bridge. A little bit of a headache from landing on some crates," he revealed.

I'm gonna kill Tony, she thought as she heard him tell her his injuries. Before she could say anything more, or begin to make sure he was alright, she heard footsteps coming closer to their direction from behind her.

"So kid, all the machines had right now was –," Happy began, carrying some of the snacks from the vending machines, stopping when he saw Natasha turn around. His eyes widened and suddenly he felt his blood run cold with dread. Oh shit, he thought with dejection. "Nat…hey. How are you?" he asked, trying to sound normal.

"Happy," Natasha greeted him as she stood. She had her normal, casual, care-free smile, but Happy, and even Peter, could tell that she was upset. "I see you know Peter," she said to him. Happy nodded. "He's a nice kid. Emphasis on kid. Did you know why Tony was bringing him here?"

Happy took a deep breath and nodded slowly. Natasha closed the distance between herself and Happy. Despite her aplomb demeanor, Happy could tell that she was probably doing everything to _not_ lash out at him at the moment.

"Where's Tony?" she asked calmly.

"H-he's on the floor where they do the CT Scans. Fourth I think," Happy answered, sounding nervous but feeling terrified.

"I'm sure Tony has the kid put up in a hotel while he's here?" she pressed Happy for information. He nodded. "Take him back there, and get him a proper meal. Tony will be in touch later," she instructed him, a small grin that was hiding a tone of pure menace behind it. She then turned to look at Peter. "You said you heal fast, but I still expect you to put some ice on anything that needs it, and get some rest, okay?"

Peter nodded. Natasha then cast one last angry look at Happy and started making her way to the elevators. Happy stood there frozen, trying to calm himself down after having the holy hell scared out of him.

"She's nicer than I thought she'd be," Peter said, knocking Happy out of his frightened daze. He looked down at Peter, his expression still stoic. "And she's prettier in person."

"Uh-huh," Happy grunted, still not able to speak.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Okay, so, I was totally floored by just much all of you liked the first chapter – and how many of you too. I'll confess, I was only going to let it be a oneshot, but after the response I got, I figured we can continue it a little more. After all, there are a few things I think we can explore, some funny, some emotional, and so on. I hope you all enjoy the ride.

Please enjoy…

* * *

Tony watched as they wheeled Rhodes into the area where the CT scanner was. He stared at the doors as they closed slowly in front of him. He was a little upset that Rhodes had to wait to get in there, but the hospital informed him that once the current patient was done, he would be next. The sound of the elevator going "ping" caught his attention. He turned and saw Natasha walking out and toward him. From the way she was practically marching, he could tell it was important.

"Nat," he greeted, the worry and the exhaustion clear in is voice.

"You son of bitch," Natasha said bluntly as she closed the distance.

"You're angry, but can we do this another time?" Tony asked.

"Why? So you can send that kid downstairs on another mission?"

"Kid?" Tony asked, feigning ignorance.

"Don't make me slap you to jog your memory," she threatened. "The wide-eyed, excitable fifteen-year-old downstairs. Goes by Peter."

"Oh, that kid. Newest intern, actually. Very smart, eager to please – likes to dumpster dive."

Now I know why Fury wanted to smack Tony around so much, Natasha thought as fought down a similar urge.

"Do you think something like this through? Or do you just hope nothing bad happens so you don't look like a moron?"

It's been a while since she's flat out insulted me, Tony mused. It was almost a welcome change to the current situation and his mood.

"That just seems like an oversimplification –"

"Oversimplification? Have you seen what he looks like right now? Half his face might as well be a bruise," Natasha cut him off. "Not to mention the other injuries he says he has. Did you even bother to ask about those?"

"The kid said he was fine…and he heals faster than you or I do," Tony answered her, showing that he had in fact checked up on Peter despite his nonchalance being evidence to the contrary.

Natasha huffed and, surprising even herself, rolled her eyes. She took a deep breath to calm herself before speaking, afraid that if she didn't she'd cause a massive scene.

"You know what, let's – and only for the moment – forget his injuries. How about the fact that Peter could've died out there? My God, Tony, did you even think about that when you brought him over here?"

"He said he took on Steve, and we both know Steve was going to do his best to make sure he didn't kill anyone," Tony reasoned to her.

"But what about everyone else? I'll give you Sam, he'd hold back. But Clint, if pushed far enough, might deliver a fatal hit. Wanda, all she needs to do is lose control for a second and you've got one dead teenager. God knows what would've happened to him if he caught Bucky and left him with no choice. And you would have been the one to tell that kid's parents that their son isn't coming home. And believe me that is a responsibility you don't want."

 _Is this the first time you lost a soldier?_

Tony looked at her seriously. Natasha could see his throat move from him swallowing hard.

 _We are_ not _soldiers._

"Do his parents know he's here?"

Tony shook his head. "They, uh…kid lives with his aunt."

Natasha was about ask about Peter's parents when one of the JCTC officers approached them. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but Secretary Ross needs to speak with you."

"Tell him he can wait a few minutes," Natasha said bluntly.

"Actually, it can't, the secretary is demanding to see you, sir."

"Fine, I suppose," Tony replied glibly. He motioned for Natasha to follow him, but the officer held up his hand.

"I'm sorry, sir, but it…well, it concerns her," the officer informed them.

* * *

Peter was sitting on his bed, his chemistry book next to him, and his notebook in his lap. He was waiting for Tony or Happy to get back to him on when they were leaving. Peter found it kind of funny when Happy brought him back from the hospital. Usually Happy was kind of grumpy toward him, keeping his answers short, one worded even – and that was when he wasn't just ignoring him totally. But after dealing with Black Widow, Happy was unusually… accommodating. He asked Peter if the temperature of the car was alright. He asked if he was comfortable, if Peter needed to stop for anything. Anytime Peter asked a question, Happy actually answered, and in full sentences. Peter was sure the change in behavior wasn't going to last long, probably until Tony got back. But he enjoyed it while it lasted.

A knock on the door snapped his attention away from his assignment. He looked over at it skeptically since no one should be coming to the room. And he knew it wasn't Happy because he had a key to the door, and the door connecting their rooms was accessible at the moment.

There was another knock. Peter set the notebook to the side and carefully got off the bed and made his way toward the door. He didn't feel his spidey-sense going off, so he wasn't completely on edge, but he still acted cautiously.

"Who is…um," he said, then stopped and cleared his throat. "Who is it?" he asked, deepening his voice, though he thought he might've gone a little too deep.

"Room service," came the high-pitched voice from the other end.

Now Peter felt worried. He still didn't feel his spidey-sense kicking in, but this was starting to sound weird to him. He moved to the door and looked through the peephole. All he saw was a pale blur. He gave serious thought to getting Happy, but had a nagging thought that he might be more annoyed with that.

"Uh…I didn't order any room service," he told the person on the other side. "I already got my food earlier."

"It's not food, sir. Someone called saying you need ice," the person replied. "For that massive black eye on your face."

Ice, he thought. My face, he thought further. Against the screaming of the little voice in his head, Peter cracked the door open, and looked into the hallway. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the Black Widow standing there, one hand behind her back.

"Hi, Peter," Natasha smiled.

"Room service?"

"I thought you could use some more ice," she answered as she held up a small bucket of ice. Peter backed up and let her into the room. Walking in she placed the bucket on the coffee table next to the covered plate that was Peter's earlier dinner. She lifted the cover and chuckled. "This place has a five-star rated executive chef, and with all the cuisines he's probably able to prepare, you order a burger and fries?"

Peter shrugged. "I didn't understand the menu…it's in German. And the parts I did understand…they didn't sound too good."

Natasha almost laughed but just thought better of it. Instead she grabbed herself one of the last remaining fries and ate it while she sat back on the couch. She cocked her head to motion Peter to do the same. She learned toward him when he was seated and looked at his face again.

"You do heal quickly," she said as she noticed that the size of the bruise had reduced somewhat. Peter nodded with a raising of his eyebrows.

"Mr. Stark tell you where I was?" Peter asked as he reached for the cloth napkin that came with the food. He grabbed a few cubes of ice and started to drop them into the napkin. Natasha grabbed the napkin and dumped the ice cubes back into the bucket.

"Bathroom's by the bedroom, right?" she asked, pointing with her thumb toward the bedroom. Peter nodded.

Natasha got up and walked into the bedroom and out of Peter's sight. She came back a few seconds later carrying a hand towel from the bathroom. She loaded some ice into it, tied it off to keep the ice in place, and handed it to Peter.

"Done this before haven't you?" Peter asked as he put the towel over his face. If he was really honest with himself, his face had stopped hurting, and the bruise felt more annoying than painful, but he figured seeing him icing it down made Natasha feel better, so he went through the motions.

"Couple of times," Natasha answered him. "And no, Tony didn't tell me where you were. At the moment, Tony and I are…not seeing eye to eye," she informed him. God, I sound like a mother telling her kid that Mommy and Daddy are fighting, she thought. How the hell did that happen, she said to herself. "But uh…I just wanted to check on you before I…before Tony took you back to…New York?" she asked figuring Tony didn't stay too far from home when recruiting Peter.

Peter nodded.

"Okay, well, I'm going to be checking up on you from time to time, make sure you're okay, one spider to another," she joked. Peter brought the makeshift ice pack off his face so she could see him roll his eyes at the cheesy sounding pun. Natasha just smiled, especially at the small involuntary smile that flashed across his face so quickly that no one but her, or someone with her training, would've seen it. "I'm also going to expect you to not Tony take too many liberties with what you can do, alright there kid?"

"S-sounds good…Black Widow…Ms. Widow?" Peter stammered, not actually knowing what to call the woman in front of him.

"Natasha. Nat is fine," she smiled at him. "Since I have no doubt that my current number is going to soon become unsecured," she said turning and leaning over the arm rest. When she turned around she had the hotel's notepad and a pen. "I know it's a little old-school, but writing your number down for me is the safest thing right now."

Peter wrote down his number and handed it to Natasha who tucked the sheet into her jacket.

"So are you like, going on another mission?" Peter inquired.

"Something like that," she answered him, deciding it was best to not tell him that she was going on the run.

"Before I go, I have a quick question, and you are under no obligation to answer," she started. Peter sat up a little straighter, and nodded. "When I was running to and from the bathroom, I glanced around the bedroom, and well…did you really bring your homework?" she asked, trying not to laugh.

"You too?" Peter answered as he fell backward toward the arm of the couch. "Mr. Stark already kind of made fun of me for bringing it. Happy gave me crap for it. But I told them, I have a test on Monday and a paper due next week."

Natasha held up her hands and, this time, did let out a small laugh. "I'm not making fun of you for you, in fact, I find it kind of adorable," she smiled, both brightly and genuinely, for the first time in days. "Finish your homework, have Tony come up with a reason for that black eye for your…aunt I think he said you live with?" Peter nodded. "And I'll check up on you when I can. Until then, take care, don't let Tony talk you into anything horrifically dangerous, and – this is extremely important. Don't tell him I was here. Or that I said I'd be checking up on you. Okay?"

"Sure," Peter said slowly as Natasha stood up. She leaned over and grabbed Peter's face, looking one last time at his black eye.

"You text me a picture when that totally heals up," she ordered him as she let his face go.

"I don't have your number," he informed her as she started making her way to the door.

"You will be the time it heals," she called back as she opened the door and looked cautiously into the hallway. "Talk to you soon, okay sweetie."

And before he could respond, Peter watched her exit the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: So, yeah…this update took a while. Once I updated everything that needed updating, and dealing with real life, I got through this a little faster than normal. Also, it's actually longer than I assumed it would be. So, I decided to split it. The next chapter is still being finished and should hopefully be up by the end of the week at the earliest (I won't lie, I'm working on a holiday fanfic for a different movie at the same time). So please watch your inboxes for the next update.

Please enjoy…

* * *

Natasha was sitting in the small coffee shop in Hell's Kitchen. She was busying herself on the tablet she had borrowed off a tourist in Midtown who wasn't paying attention on the subway earlier. She overheard him and his wife saying that they hoped they, and their kids, didn't miss the ferry to the Statue of Liberty. The husband said he wasn't going to use the tablet until they got there since he didn't know if he'd charged it enough, so she figured that she was okay for at least an hour until he noticed it was gone. She was happy to see that he at least got the battery into the low eighties. She was reading over a PDF of the Sokovia Accords, most notably looking for anything regarding exemptions. She wasn't finding any.

"Here you go," said the waitress as she placed a sandwich and a cup of coffee in front of her.

"Thank you," Natasha said without looking up.

"Need anything else, ma'am?" the waitress asked.

"Not right now, thank you." The waitress smiled and left her to her early lunch. Natasha looked a little longer, then used the key word search in an attempt to narrow things down. "Damn it," she muttered, "There has to be a loophole."

"Loophole?" came the voice from the booth behind her. Natasha turned and was about to politely tell the stranger to go back to his food, when she saw him raise his hands. "Sorry, occupational reflex. I hear the word loophole and my instincts kick in. I'm a lawyer," he chuckled at the end. Natasha was skeptical, if not for the long hair alone, but decided not to say anything.

"Are you a good lawyer?"

"I do okay," he answered.

Natasha turned in her booth until she could lean her arm on the top of the seat and face him. "You heard of the Sokovia Accords?" she asked him. He nodded. "I've been trying to find a way of having it not apply to someone, but it's not working as well as I hoped."

"Not apply to… _you_? Or to someone else?" he asked the redhead as he turned to lean his back against the wall and face her better.

"Someone else. A kid…well, a teenager."

The lawyer leaned over and noticed the tablet. I wouldn't need a downloaded copy, he thought, thinking he could just find a copy of it online himself if the version she had was any indication. "Your teenager?" he prodded, trying to glean whatever info he could.

Natasha shook her head. "Just a friend."

"How about I take a look, and see if there's a loophole than can be exploited?"

"As much help as that would be, I couldn't ask that."

"You're not, I'm volunteering," he said. "Just give me a day or two to read over it, and see if I can't find you…something."

"And how much is this consultation going to cost?" Natasha asked.

"Pro bono," he answered. "Just getting to help out the little guy again for once."

Natasha eyed him warily. Years of spy work had left her slightly jaded of offers of free help. But years of working around certain Avengers had left her with a sense that some people really did want to help, and not want anything from it. "I'll email you the file," she relented. "Got a card."

The lawyer reached into his jacket and handed her his business card. "Franklin Nelson," she read out loud.

"Just call me Foggy," he chuckled.

Natasha smiled and held out her hand. "Nadia Richards," she introduced herself. Foggy shook her hand. "Thank you. So when should I…?"

"Call me tomorrow night. I'll let you know where we can meet to discuss what I find."

* * *

Peter was sitting in Spanish class waiting for the day to end. It was his last period of the day and he was itching to get out there and start patrolling. He should been paying attention to the lesson instead of his current task, texting Tony.

 _Peter: Hey Mr. Stark, it's Peter...Parker. Just letting you know I'll be patrolling after school for a while. So if you need me, I'm free._

 _Peter: Just in case you had a mission that needed handling after I get out._

 _Peter: I get out at 2:45._

 _Peter: ...pm._

"Seńor Parker," he heard the teacher call him. He fumbled his phone in his hand for a fraction of a second before looking back up.

"Si, sir," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, yes, Seńor…uh…"

"Put it away."

Peter nodded. He glanced at the clock on the phone's screen as he slid it into his pocket – 2:23. A little over twenty minutes to go, he thought. He was trying to focus on the teacher talking about past tense verb usage when he felt his phone vibrate. He waited until the teacher's back was to him to slip his phone back out. He activated the screen, hoping that Mr. Stark had finally responded, only to be somewhat deflated when he saw that it wasn't him. He was, however, happy to see that it was from someone else.

 _BW: When do you get out of school?_

 _Peter: 2:45_

 _BW: Does your aunt pick you up?_

 _Peter: No. Subway._

 _BW: Not today. Look for a black Camaro._

 _Peter: Why?_

There was no further response. Two and a half weeks since he'd gotten back from Germany and this was only the third time she'd gotten in contact with him. The first was a few days after he got back. She was checking up on his injured eye like she said she would and if everything had gone okay with his aunt when he got back. The second was because she had, apparently, been keeping tabs on the New York news, looking into anything regarding a Spider-Man. She wanted to know if Tony had been putting him up to all that. When he told her he wasn't, she asked him to be careful since she figured trying to get him to stop would be something she should try in person.

Before he knew it, the bell was ringing, ending the day. He grabbed his backpack and began walking out.

"Hey, Peter," he heard and turned to see Ned walking up to him. "Coming to decathlon?" he asked hopefully.

"Sorry, I got the –"

"Stark internship," Ned finished for him. "I think they'd get it if you told them," he said as he followed Peter out and into the front of the school.

"What I'm…what they have me doing is important," Peter told him as he began scanning the circle drive in front of the school. His eyes settled on the aforementioned black Camaro parked near the middle of the block – or rather _a_ Camaro parked in the middle of the block. There was a second one parked there as well, the both of them separated by a large SUV. He walked toward them, Ned following close behind him. The first Camaro had a fifty-ish looking guy in it, and Peter had to resist the urge to tell him to stop checking out the senior girls – at least he hoped it was the senior girls. As he was about to start heading to the second Camaro, he heard a voice.

"Hey you, I'm here to pick up a baby genius in a nerd tee. Know where I can find one?"

Peter looked up to see Natasha standing next to her car. He looked at Ned and almost broke out laughing when he saw that Ned's face was wide-eyed and slacked-jawed.

"Cat got you tongue there?" she asked him. Ned looked down and saw that his shirt was a solid color and then looked at Peter. He pointed at Peter's shirt which had a decal of the words "think like a proton - stay positive" circling an atom. "Ready Peter?"

Ned's eyes got even wider. "She's here for you?" he asked in shock. Peter just raised his eyebrows. "She's hotter than Liz," Ned said, dropping his head when he realized he said that louder than meant to. Peter just clapped his friend on the shoulder and started and walking toward Natasha's car. "Can I come?" he whispered to Peter as he was passing him.

"Don't you got decathlon?"

"I can skip it."

"Have fun, buddy," Peter said as he got into the car. Natasha was settling into her seat as well. "What?" Peter asked as he saw Natasha looking at him while he finished putting on his seat belt.

"Who's Liz?" Natasha asked with a smirk.

"A girl."

"Is she pretty?" Peter rolled his eyes. "Have you talked to her?"

"Oh my God," Peter groaned under his breath. "Ned, I'm gonna kill you."

"Do you want me to talk to her for you?" Natasha smiled, trying not to laugh at the fun she was having.

"Can we just go do…whatever it is you have planned?"

* * *

"So when did you get in town?" Peter asked as he and Natasha sat in the pizzeria in Brooklyn.

"Yesterday," she told him as she took a drink to wash down her latest bite. "So, how have you been?"

Peter gave a slight shrug. "Not too bad. Just trying to make sure I don't fall behind in a few classes because of patrolling."

" _Patrolling_? You mean ending up on YouTube?" Natasha pressed him.

Peter looked around and leaned into the table. "I…I can't help it if someone films me stopping a mugging, or a robbery," he defended himself.

Natasha looked at him and then gave a small smile. "I enjoyed the one of a store owner trying to shove a sandwich to you after…"

"Stopping the guys who were robbing him." Peter smiled and almost felt like blushing from the memory. "You watch the videos?"

Natasha nodded. "I said I'd be keeping tabs on you. The videos help. Did you really stop a car from hitting a bus?"

"That was before Mr. Stark gave me the suit, but yeah." He chuckled, and looked a little above Natasha's head.

"So, you what, just go around, swinging away until you find something or someone to stop?"

"I like to help. And the store owner, that was…I don't _ask_ for things, but sometimes people insist, and I don't want to be rude. And that guy makes awesome sandwiches."

Natasha let out a small laugh. Seeing Peter in his element, and more importantly, seeing that excitable nature of his, it was refreshing from the past couple of weeks. From laying low, to changing routines, to trying and find Steve to see if it's even possible to salvage that relationship, well, the stresses were building and old spy habits were taking over – namely the ease at which she was cutting herself off and switching completely into survival mode. But watching this kid become animated over a sandwich, it was a catharsis she needed, small as it was.

"Sandwiches and web slinging aside, let's get back on the topic of school," she said. "Namely the topic of a girl named Liz."

Peter rolled his eyes and let his head drop and hang. He could hear Natasha giggling from his reaction. I hate you, Ned, I really do, he thought as he brought his head back up. Natasha was looking at him with a positively wicked grin.

"You never answered my question," Natasha told him. Peter stared back, puzzled, not remembering anything being asked while they were eating. "Is she pretty?"

Peter tried to play off the question with a laugh, but it just came out sounding far more awkward. "Do you really want to talk about me liking – I mean about a girl I _think_ is –" Peter stammered, stopping as he realized he was still giving Natasha the kind of response she wanted. He dropped his head again, this time pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Yes, and yes," Natasha answered excitedly.

Peter took a drink of his soda, and then looked at Natasha. "She's a senior," he began.

"Older woman, huh?" Natasha smiled, this time more genuinely.

"Uh, yeah. We're on the decathlon team together. But uh, um, she doesn't…I don't think she even knows I'm alive."

"I highly doubt that," Natasha said with a self-assured nod. Peter scoffed. "Don't sell yourself short Peter. I wouldn't be surprised if she's taken some notice. Have you talked to her?"

"Y-yeah, at decathlon."

Natasha shook her head. "No, I mean have you _talked_ to her. Not about school, about decathlon, about…well, anything other than that?"

"Are you trying to play matchmaker?" Peter asked in disbelief.

"Not the first time I've done it," she raised her eyebrows cockily. She saw him smile forcefully. "You want some advice, or not?" she deadpanned at that smile. Peter acquiesced and motioned for her to go ahead. "Girls like it when you're honest and when you're genuine. They like compliments and they like especially like it when you notice they've intentionally changed something."

Peter looked at her seriously. Then questioningly. Then his eyes widened. She isn't just taking about Liz, he thought.

"I didn't want to say anything since I figured you…," Peter trailed off.

"Since I?"

Peter looked around and then leaned into the table. "I figured you didn't want attention since you did it because you're…on the run?"

"Figured it out, did you?"

"We talked about it in class. And they – some kind of international cops – actually tried to talk to me in Germany after someone said you were talking to me at the hospital, but, uh, Mr. Stark kept them away from me. Told them what would a teenager know about where you might go."

Thank you, Tony, she thought.

"It looks good, though, your hair. Not them not knowing where you are. But that's good, too," Peter rattled off. Now that's refreshing to see and hear again, Natasha thought. "So where are you staying?"

"I got a safe house somewhere. I had to pick some stuff up," she told him. "It's where I did this," she revealed. Peter twitched his eyebrow in disbelief. "Pair of scissors and a box of Clairol. One of my better sink jobs," she grinned.

"So, what happened? I thought you were on Mr. Stark's side? And signed the whole Accords thing," Peter questioned. Natasha took a deep breath and looked around, surveilling the immediate area. She leaned into the table, Peter doing the same to keep her from having to speak too loudly.

"Things get complicated out in the field, Pete," she began. "Decisions get made that…sometimes, even if you are on the side everyone says is the right side, don't agree with that side. While I agreed, at the time, with the Accords, I also trusted in my friends. Steve – Captain America – was so sure that there was a bigger threat, someone pulling the strings to make us believe that the Winter Soldier was guilty. I don't place trust in a lot of people. I say I do, but really, I always have a little doubt in the back of my mind that makes me prepare a contingency. But with Steve, what you see is mostly what you get. If he believed his friend was framed after finding some evidence, then…even I have to doubt if bringing him in was the best move at the time."

"Why didn't you tell Mr. Stark if you believed him so much?"

Natasha smiled, shook her head slightly, and took a quick drink. "Once Tony Stark makes up his mind, he's made up his mind. He doesn't leave room for doubt, usually until the dust has settled and he has the fallout to deal with. Letting Steve and Bucky go, was not the smartest decision, but it was the right one; even if Iron Man himself didn't know it at the time."

"So, what happens now?" Peter asked as picked at slice of pepperoni on his plate.

"I lay low. I check up on you from time to time," she smirked with a playful kick to his leg under the table. "And I try and see if my friends will still talk to me."

Peter looked around and ran his fingers through his hair. "I think…I think they'll still talk to you. If you trusted them, then they don't have a reason not to."

God, how I wish could think like this kid, even for just a day, Natasha thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I know this update is a day later than the end of the week deadline I put on myself, but one of the sections took some thinking to make sound plausible. But I really wanted to keep my word, so I really wanted to upload this chapter before I went out. That being said, I hope you all like it and have a happy and safe New Year's.

Please enjoy…

* * *

Foggy was sitting in his car, waiting for Nadia to arrive. He looked at his watch and saw that it was almost eleven. He looked up the street, watching for any movement that would indicate she was coming. When he didn't see anything, he glanced in the side view and rear-view mirrors to check if she was approaching. He got out his phone and opened the screen, checking for a text. Nothing. Suddenly there was a knock on the driver side window that caused him to jump in his seat, his phone jumping from his fumbling hands down into the floorboard. He took a quick second to catch his breath and lowered the window.

"Did I scare you?" Natasha asked him with a small smirk.

"No, uh, I just didn't…didn't see you walking up," Foggy said, feeling his heart still beating like a loud drum. He took a deep breath to try and calm it down. Natasha smirked a little bit bigger. Fogy raised the window back up and got out of the car. He motioned for her to follow him. He pulled a set of keys from his jeans and started to unlock a door next to a storefront. Natasha saw him cast a glance at the red pillar next to the door and it looked like he was biting the inside of his cheek.

"Where are we?" Natasha asked.

"Where I used to help the little guy," he said as he opened the door and led her inside. Once inside the actual office, he turned on the light, surprised that it was still connected. "The couch still works too," he offered once he saw the state of the place. Natasha sat down on one end and Foggy on the other. He pulled out a hard copy of the Accords that he'd printed.

"Well?" she asked, trying not to feel too hopeful.

"I really wish I had better news, but –"

"The damn thing is iron clad isn't it?" Natasha finished for him.

He gave a small nod. "When they wrote it, there was never a distinction between people with powers of any age. If you were discovered, the government will assess you and your powers, and run a battery of tests; things like that." Natasha gave a small nod and then looked out the window into the night. "There does seem to be one loophole that can be exploited though." Natasha's attention snapped back toward Foggy. "The way the language reads, the Accords applies its rules to super-powered people, or anyone with enough skill that they can hold their own in that type of… _world_ , so long as those individuals are directly under the control of whatever country's government they're from. Essentially government employees, like say, S.H.I. ., or criminals that have caused damage. And since minors cannot work for the government, unless –"

"So as long as Pet – this friend of mine – pretty much keeps his head down, doesn't make waves, and doesn't end up an asset for some government agency…?"

"At best, he might get left alone. At worst, he'll be forced to sign, but it'd be pretty much just monitoring. Unless he breaks the law, in which case, he's held without any form of due process. That's going to be a case to watch one day…from a legal standpoint."

"That's still not a very good set of options, but it's better than some of the others," Natasha reasoned as she mulled over her options in her head.

"Does it help at all?" Foggy asked.

Natasha nodded. "It does. Thank you," she said as she stood up. "I'm sorry if it feels like I'm rushing out of here now that I got what I needed, but I need to see my friend."

"Not a problem," Foggy told her as he stood with her. "Like I said, just felt like helping –"

"The little guy," Natasha finished. "You and my friend have that in common," she told him as she held out her hand. Foggy shook it and watched as she left. He looked around the old office, getting a little maudlin when he suddenly heard his phone sound off. He pulled it from his pocket and checked it. It was a text.

 _A big law firm doesnt suit you. An office like that does. Keep helping the little guy_

 _Nadia_

* * *

Peter walked onto the roof of his apartment building. It was almost midnight and he had to practically sneak past Aunt May, but he'd a gotten a text from Natasha telling him that she needed to talk to him. He responded by asking couldn't they just do it by text, but she insisted that what she had to say had to be done in person. He looked around and saw her leaning against the edge on the side of the building that faced the Manhattan skyline. He walked over, his time as Spider-man giving him the ability to not make noise if really didn't want to. That didn't stop the experienced spy from tilting her head slightly in his direction when he was just a few feet from her.

"Hey, Pete," she said softly.

Peter looked dumbfounded. Most people weren't able to hear him coming much anymore. He figured that maybe she heard the door when he arrived. But after reading about her after she dumped all that info onto the net, he figured she was one of the few people he'd probably never be able to sneak up on.

"Making a house call, now?" he asked as he stood next to her, leaning on the building's edge as well.

"Just stopping by before I head out," she smiled.

Peter felt like something was in the air, and it wasn't just the warm breeze. Natasha was still staring over at Manhattan, but the same levity she had at lunch the day before was gone. She looked far more serious, like she was being weighed down by something.

"Where you headed?" he asked. She turned to him and gave him a wry smile. "Right. Better if I don't know." Natasha nodded.

"Before I go, however, I need to tell you something," she said, turning her whole body this time to face him. He lifted himself up to sit on the ledge and looked at her as well. "Did Tony ever mention what was in the Accords to you?"

Peter shook his head. "Not much. Why?"

"Are you aware that they apply to you?"

Peter looked a little stunned. He shook his head and cleared his throat. "Even if I'm still not eighteen?"

"When it was drafted, they were responding to us Avengers. Apparently, they didn't take into account that there might be kids, or teenagers, with powers. You get seen the same way as Tony, Vision, and even myself. Especially with a name like Spider- _man_ ," she told him. "I did some checking though, and I'm pretty sure that the reason you're being left alone is because you're not a big enough fish."

"Fish?"

"Right now, you go after purse snatchers, bike thieves, muggers. Excluding the airport battle, you've never really done anything that warrants national or international attention. It's keeping you off the radar. That's probably why Tony hasn't contacted you, or given you bigger, more important – and dangerous – missions. He knows that if he does that, Secretary Ross will have you hunted down, registered, and watched, and followed. I can call him an ass all I want, but apparently, he's keeping you safe by keeping you a friendly _neighborhood_ Spider-man. And that's how I need you to keep it."

"Neighborhood?" Peter questioned.

Natasha nodded.

"The last thing you need is be registered with the Accords. Because if you are, that secret identity goes away. And trust me when I say, once people know who to come after, they look for weaknesses…like Aunts who can't defend themselves the way you can. I get that asking you to stop completely would be pointless, but I need you to promise me Pete, try and leave the big stuff to the Iron Men of this city."

"Nat," Peter said softly, his head giving an almost imperceptible shake. "If I see something happening…"

"I'm not telling don't help. I'm telling you that there's a difference between stopping a purse snatcher and getting involved in a matter of national security. One gets the neighborhood feeling safe. The other ends with a SWAT team. Are you understanding me?"

Peter nodded. Natasha reached over and cradled his chin and cheek in her hand.

"You want to help. I get it. It's admirable, and noble. But you can't help with some government watchdog over your shoulder, or worse…from a cell in some government hole. So please, at least until, I, or even better – Tony – figures out a way to keep you protected…small stuff for the time being okay?"

"Sure."

"Not the conversation you probably thought we'd be having, but, definitely one we need to have," she told him as she stood up straight. "Okay, now that _that_ is out of the way. Please, take care of yourself. And I don't just mean what I just talked about. I mean…everything. And even if I can't get in touch as often as I might like, keep texting me, I want to know what's going on with you okay?"

Peter smiled and nodded.

"Alright, so, all I need is a hug, and I can head out." Peter looked at her perplexed. He never pictured the infamously feared Black Widow as a hugger. "Sweetie, I mean it, give me a hug," she pressed him with a small chuckle. Finally, Peter moved in and the two of them hugged tightly.

"Be careful," he said to her as they separated.

"I will," she said with a ruffling of his hair. "Bye, Peter." She started to walk away but stopped just as she got to the door leading back into the building. "And Peter," she called back. "Talk that that girl, because I am going to ask about her," she smiled as she finally left the roof.

Peter rolled his eyes, but still smiled. I should've just let Nat talk to her for me then, he thought as he started making his way back inside as well.

* * *

The Next Day…

Pepper was at her desk, feeling a headache coming on. She'd just gotten off the phone with an aide of Secretary Ross's once again. Apparently, Tony was ducking his calls and Ross wanted her to make him answer. Does he really not know who he's dealing with, she thought. If Tony Stark wants to screw with you, while ducking you, he will. "I hope it gives you another coronary," she said out loud to the open space of the office. As she began to rub her temples to try and relieve the tension, she heard her phone beep. "Yes, Mrs. Arbogast," she said to her secretary.

"Ms. Potts, I have your former assistant on the line asking to speak with you."

My former what, Pepper thought. "Did you get… _a_ name?"

"It's Ms. Rushman, ma'am."

Rushman, Pepper thought to herself. Nat?

"Ms. Potts?"

"Uh, yes, thank you, Mrs. Arbogast," Pepper stuttered for a moment. "Put her through." After a second, Pepper heard the line click over and breathed in deeply. "Natalie?"

"Hi, Ms. Potts," she heard the voice on the other end. "It's been a while, how are you?"

"I'm…I'm good. You?"

"Peachy, just doing some travelling."

"Travelling? Sounds nice," Pepper said, trying to sound normal. "Have you been…," she trailed off. She had no clue what to say or what to ask. In the weeks since the airport battle, she hadn't heard from any of the team that had escaped the Raft. Not that she was supposed to know about the Raft, but since Stark Enterprises helped build it certain parts of, she was privileged to certain secrets when she became CEO. But she knew Natasha was not one of the Avengers that stood with Cap, so she knew she wasn't on the underwater prison, or part of the escape.

"If you're trying to speak inconspicuously, don't bother. I'm using a burner phone for this call, and a scrambler to keep anyone from listening in unwanted," explained Natasha. "But still, I don't think we should spend too much time talking, so I'll get to the point: do you know about Tony's new friend?"

"Friend?"

"Goes by Peter. Is about fifteen, really excitable in an 'oh my god, that's awesome' kind of way," she described, her slight impersonation bringing a small smile to her face. "Practically idolizes Tony."

"Rings a bell, but Tony doesn't really bring him around here. In fact, Tony doesn't really come around here anymore," Pepper answered her. "I think he does it so I can tell Secretary Ross that he's not here."

"Ross calls you?"

"Yes. Either he's adamant that I make Tony get in touch with him, or he tries to browbeat me into using the company's resources to find all of you."

"And?" Natasha asked, her voice betraying her for a second.

"I keep telling him partnerships like that are at the approval of the CEO, and I feel no need to waste Stark Enterprises resources on what is – and should stay – a law enforcement matter."

"How pissed does he get?"

"Extremely. And I know it's wrong to wish it upon somebody, but I really hope the extra stress of constant refusals, and yelling over the phone, causes him another heart complication," Pepper relayed. She heard Natasha actually laugh at that news. "But back to the matter you called about – Peter is it?"

"I need to know if Tony has done anything, looked into something to protect that kid from the Accords. I figured you might know something"

"I'm sorry, Nat, but I don't. Like I said, Tony doesn't really keep the kid on a leash. Probably thinks it's safer than keeping him close."

Natasha felt her heart sink a little. Damn it, Tony, she thought. First you bring the kid into a war zone, now you won't even look after him? You selfish ass!

"However," Pepper began, interrupting Natasha's mental tirade, "a couple days after getting back from Germany, Tony did ask me to have legal start going over the Accords. I believe his exact request was to find him a spider sized hole."

Tony, you irritating ass, you are just full of surprises, Natasha said to herself. A little of her anger over Peter's safety from the Accords dissipated – just slightly – at the news that Tony apparently had the same idea she did. Although he had evidently put an army of lawyers on it. "Have they found anything?"

"Not yet," but he says not to let them stop until they find a loophole he can use if he ever needs it. All the lawyers have in the way immediate advice is –"

"For Peter to keep his nose clean and his activities small?" Natasha finished for her.

"Mhm. Why the sudden interest in a teenage superhero?"

"Because he should be a teenager first before becoming a superhero. Thanks for the info, but I need to go."

"Try and keep in touch, _Natalie_. If you're worried about eavesdroppers, this building has the best scramblers available. I guarantee no one was listening in on us," Pepper revealed to her friend.

"I'll keep that in mind," Natasha said before getting of the phone.

Pepper watched the light go off telling her that Natasha was off the phone and then picked up the receiver. "Mrs. Arbogast, can you connect me with legal, please?"


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: I know this update was long overdue. I also know this chapter is rather short, but as I was writing it, I realized that the drama and the subject matter behind it didn't need a massive chapter. I am working on chapter 6 right now, and it will more than likely be a more normal-sized chapter. Other than that,

Please enjoy…

* * *

"One thing, I asked him to do one damn thing," Natasha ranted under her breath as she sat on the worn out couch and typed into her phone. After a few seconds, she grew impatient and pressed the screen, and then brought the phone to her ear. "Hi Pete, its Nat, call me when you get this because we really need to talk," she said. It was obvious to Steve, who was sitting at the table of their safe house, finishing his dinner, that she had left a voicemail. And the way she was practically staring a hole into it, was proof enough for him that she was expecting a quick response.

"You alright over there?" he asked. Natasha looked over at him, her expression clear – not now. "You seem upset is all," he added.

"It's Peter," she answered quickly. "I asked him to…I gave him one simple instruction, and he practically disobeys me in spectacular fashion," she explains, holding back her frustration.

"Does he not have his parents?" Steve and Natasha hear Wanda ask from the kitchen area where she was cleaning up. It was still taking some getting used to hearing her without her heavy accent Natasha thought as she looked over at the youngest Avenger and nodded her head.

"An aunt."

"Then let her deal with this," Steve says as he pushes his dish away from him.

"I would, if she knew he was Spider-Man," Natasha told him halfway sarcastically. "But she doesn't. So I have to be the one to step in."

"Nat, I get it, you care about the kid, but you need to remember that you're not his –"

"Quiet," Natasha tells him as her phone starts ringing. She smiles quickly at the sight of Peter's picture on the screen. "Hey Peter, you better have a good explanation for disobeying me," she started as she got up from the couch. Wanda and Steve watched her make her way toward the door to go outside. "No big deal? Metro PD got involved. I hope you don't have anything to do, because this conversation, is going to be a long one…," Natasha continued to rant as she finally went outside, slamming the door the safe house behind her.

"That's the guy she wishes she could set me up with?" Wanda muttered offhandedly as she walked over and put her hand out for Steve's plate. Steve just looked up at her, confusion written on his face. "She said she couldn't decide if she wanted me a few years younger, or him a few years older because she was pretty sure we'd hit it off if we were closer in age."

That woman cannot stop playing matchmaker, Steve thought with a shake of his head. "Just lie and tell her you have a boyfriend you see when you have some downtime, and hope that backs her off," Steve told the girl. "I'm gonna go call Sam, see how much longer he's gonna be getting supplies," he finished as he made his way for his bunk.

"Yeah…lie," Wanda mutters to herself as she heads back to wash the plate.

* * *

Natasha practically barreled down the door to the safe house. Her walk through the small base of operations was one usually reserved for when she was in fight mode. But this was different. She was flat out pissed off. She made her way over to the bedroom that she and Wanda shared, though right now it was all hers since Wanda was off meeting some guy she refused to divulge any information on. She started looking through her belongings until she found what she was looking for – her phone. As she presses the device to her ear, she was muttering the same phrase over and over every few seconds while she listened to the phone ring: "Grounded for life."

She redialed twice after getting his voicemail, before finally getting the young teen on the phone.

"Hey Nat," Peter answered softly, almost like a hurt puppy.

"Don't 'Hey Nat', me," she started, causing Peter to roll his eyes in frustration. Not again, he thought. "Are you okay?" The question threw him for a moment. He was fully prepared for another ass chewing, but relieved to hear that she wasn't without caring about him at the same time.

"I'm fine, just…I'm fine."

"Remind me again, what was it you promised me; to keep your head down, and not attract national or international attention. But for some reason, you can't seem to keep that. First, the Washington Monument, and now this. Do you know how badly you could've been hurt? How badly a civilian could've been hurt – or worse? What if someone had died? Did that even once go through your head?" Natasha said into the phone, thankful that she was alone, and that the safe house was isolated enough that she didn't have to worry about neighbors hearing her.

Peter groaned as he sat on his bed. "Nat, I already got all of this from Tony, I don't need it from –"

"Well, it's good you got from him, but you're still going to get from me."

"What do you want from me?" Peter yelled into the phone. "I was looking into things here, but Mr. Stark and Happy were just brushing me off. Until the DC thing, you and I haven't talked in almost two months – two months. You said you'd check up on me regularly, but instead, you're acting like Mr. Stark."

"Do not change the subject, and do not yell at me like that young man," Natasha gave back to him.

"Young man? Young man," Peter said impatiently. Natasha couldn't see it, but he was pacing his room now, running his hands through his hair, thanking God that May was out getting some dinner, otherwise she'd have come running in to find out what he was doing and who he was yelling at. "I already got an earful from Mr. Stark over this, not to mention as bad as all this is, he took away the suit, so I can't even keep looking into this, or stop any of it. So you'll excuse me if I don't think I need it again from someone who's…God knows where who can't even let me know she's okay, or to see if I'm okay."

"I'm busy, trying not to stop bad things from happening too, and trying not to get arrested while doing it."

"But apparently you're not too busy to call me when I screw up, so you can pile on. Mr. Stark already chewed me out, and in case you need reminding, you're not my Aunt May, and you're not my mother," he shouted at Natasha. Almost immediately he realized what he just said, and began kicking himself in his mind. "Nat," he said softly, guilt and regret in his voice, "I-I'm sor –"

"I know that that I'm not your mother, Peter," Natasha cut him off. "I really do know that. And I know I'm not Aunt May, but Aunt May can't talk to you about stuff like this because she doesn't know that you're Spider-Man. And let's not forget, you didn't make a promise to Aunt May, but you did to me."

Peter was silent for a moment, taking her words in, and wishing he could take back his. "Nat, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I…," he trailed off, some instinct telling him that he was being futile. He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. He felt sick when he realized that she had already hung up.

Back at the safe house, Natasha was sitting on her bed. Her elbows were supported on her knees, hands hanging limply. She heard her phone hit the ground as it slipped from her grasp. As she sat there, she reminded herself that she was the type of operative that never let anyone see her cry, and even though she was alone, she wasn't going to let her see herself cry either.


	6. Chapter 6

Natasha, Steve, and Sam were sitting in a bar in Scotland on the outer edge of Edinburgh, doing their best to try and not stand out. Wanda was off in the city, doing who knows what. The three of them would've preferred that she stay with them, but they realized that she needed to go out like a normal nineteen year old, if not to help her at least feel normal every now and then. So Steve and Sam just reiterated to her to watch out for herself, keep an eye out for anyone watching too closely, and don't give herself away. Steve added the instruction to not drink too much since she was going to be by herself, to which Wanda nonchalantly agreed.

Even now, Steve and Sam wondered how this conversation usually went since it was usually Natasha who had these talks with Wanda before letting her out. But Natasha had been distracted lately. Not enough to compromise a mission, but enough that they were starting to become concerned.

"So, any news on something other than a mission?" Sam asked, feeling the need to fill the quiet. He looked over at Steve, who shot an empty glance back at him and then mouthed the words, "What do you want me to say?"

Sam simply shrugged an "I don't know", before looking over at Natasha who was simply running her finger along the rim of her glass while staring at the TV on the wall, blankly watching the soccer game.

"Uh…," Steve started, searching his mind for something to say. "I heard there's going be an American football game in London in like two weeks," he said unsure. Sam looked at him with a glib expression.

"Stop trying to take my mind off of Peter, guys," Natasha said without looking at them. "I came out didn't I? And I am okay – a little upset still – but okay."

The guys were going to try and say she should talk about what happened when Natasha's phone, which she was keeping close on the table in case Wanda needed them, started ringing. She picked it up quickly, recognizing Peter's ringtone.

"Hello."

"Nat, I need to talk to you…like in person…like now," she heard him say frantically.

"Peter, calm down, what's going," Natasha told him, trying to remain calm, hoping that it helped him calm down too.

"Aunt May – she walked in on me wearing my Spider-man suit, and now she knows, and she's mad…really, really mad. Like she's on phone trying to call Mr. Stark, and…I don't know what to do. You gotta help me," he implored her. She looked at the time, and realized that it was early afternoon over in New York. If she left now, she'd be there by midnight.

"Peter, it's gonna be okay, I'm coming, it'll take me a few hours, but I'm on my way," she reassured him as she hung up. She downed what was left in her glass to try and steady herself, and got up. "Peter needs me, I'm taking the quinjet, I'll be back in a couple of days," she said to Sam and Steve as she got up, not even bothering to let them say anything.

"You can't just take the jet like that," Steve called after her. "What if we need –?"

"Be back in a few days," Natasha shouted back at them before walking out of the bar.

Steve and Sam looked at each other. Each one was wondering just how this whole thing was going to play out.

* * *

Natasha walked up to the apartment that Peter and May lived at. It was half past midnight, and she was debating whether to knock, or wait until tomorrow and let them sleep. But then she remembered the agitated tone in Peter's voice and decided it was best to tackle this head on and without delay. So, deciding to treat this like a Band-Aid and just rip it off, she knocked, softly enough so as not to disturb the neighbors, but loud enough that she'd be heard even if they were in bed. After a small tense wait, the door opened as far as the security latch would allow.

"Yes," came a woman's voice who she assumed was the famous – or infamous – Aunt May.

"Hi, my name's –"

"Nat," she heard Peter's voice from within the apartment. She could hear footsteps running up to the door, which meant Peter wasn't trying to be as stealthy as he usually was. "May, let her in, please," she heard him ask of his aunt. May looked back towards her nephew, and then back at Natasha. Natasha watched as May closed the door, and then heard the latch being undone. The door opened and Natasha walked.

Once inside, Peter moved to hug her. Natasha returned the hug, watchful of May's perplexed gaze. "Who are you?" May asked calmly, her voice even.

Natasha and Peter broke the hug and Natasha turned toward May. "Natasha Romanoff," she extended her hand. May took the hand, though more out of reflex politeness than genuine manners.

"Romanoff? As in…?" May asked, starting to connect the dots. Natasha nodded. Natasha and Peter heard May let out a small groan as she closed her eyes. "Tony Stark. Now, the Black Widow? Is there anything else you want to tell me, Peter? Huh, is Captain America gonna show up after parking the car?"

"Actually, I left him back in Scotland when Peter called me," Natasha said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

May just looked at Natasha like she wasn't helping at all. "And you obviously knew about all this, didn't you? The powers? The costume? Stark helping him?"

"Not entirely, and not from the beginning. Can we sit down, because all this is going to take a while to tell you," Natasha suggested. The three of them sat down in the living room – May and Peter on the couch, and Natasha on one of the arm chairs – and Natasha began telling May about how she met Peter, and how she'd been looking on him. Peter gave May the full story about getting his powers, and just what happened after Tony came to their apartment all those months ago.

"So that really was you in Germany, fighting the Avengers?" May asked, a look of terror on her face. Peter nodded. "And you just let that happen?" she asked Natasha.

"In my defense, I didn't know he was fifteen at the time. If I had, I have made him sit the battle out, even if it meant knocking the kid out myself," Natasha tried to reassure her.

May looked back and forth between her nephew and the former Avenger who showed up at her door. "I don't know what hurts more, Pete, the fact that you didn't think you could tell me about this, or that you've been doing this behind my back," she started with Peter. "And you," she turned her attention toward Natasha. "You say you were looking in on him because you didn't want him to get hurt, and because you were just looking out for him. At no point did ever occur to you to tell _me_ what was going on – for my own peace of mind?"

"May, I…," Peter stuttered.

"Telling you about his secret was not my decision to make. It had to be his," Natasha interrupted Peter. "At the very least, I just tried to keep him out of too much danger."

"And how'd that work out?" May asked angrily. "Because he was involved in some kind of bombing in Washington, not to mention that ferry incident. He could've been killed doing that, and you let it happen."

"I wasn't in the country when that –"

"She came down on me for that," Peter told his aunt. "She called me up, and started reading me the riot act because she said I could've been killed too. But I…yelled back. When I called her because of you finding out, it was the first time since that day."

"So, you've been," May said toward Natasha. She then turned toward Peter. "And instead of telling me…," she gaped, pausing to grip her head in her hands. She shook her head while rubbing her temples, doing her best to not start losing it. "You know what, I'm not dealing with this tonight. I'm not. I'll see you," she pointed her finger at both of them, not knowing who she was more upset about, before settling get finger on Pete. "You, I'll see you in the morning, but right now, I am way too fried to handle any more tonight," she finished as she got up and walked out of the kitchen. A few seconds later, they heard her bedroom door close, leaving Peter and Natasha sitting on the couch in slightly awkward silence.

"That went better than I thought it would," Natasha broke the silence with. Peter looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "Trust me, Pete, nothing I said or did was going to really help tonight. At best, this was just a reprieve until later."

"Do you think she'll calm down by morning?" Peter asked, Natasha noticing the slight hint of scared nervousness from him.

She moved over to sit next to Peter. She felt him lean toward her, and half expected to feel his head fall to her shoulder. But she knew that he wouldn't, not because he didn't want to, but because he – like her – could still hear May in their heads questioning Peter and his loyalty in this whole situation. Natasha had wished May _had_ been a little more receptive to hearing her out. She'd have gone a little further letting the rightly frazzled woman know that this wasn't about her taking over watching Peter from her. That it was just a chance meeting that led to a set of circumstances that just seemed to keep going.

"Yeah, calm at least," Natasha chuckled. She bumped his shoulder with hers. "We'll talk to her in the morning. Just call me when she gets up so I can come back."

"Where are you staying?"

"On the quinjet. I parked it on an abandoned parking garage." Peter looked at her askance. "It's cloaked."

"Just stay here the night," Peter told her.

"Thank, but I don't think May would be a big fan of that."

"It'll make it easier to talk to her in the morning," Peter reasoned with her.

"And where would I be sleeping?"

Peter looked at her for a second, thinking. "This couch is way more comfortable than it looks," he half-joked. Natasha stared at Peter and was about to tell him that it'd be better if she left for the night. But one look at those brown eyes of his and she knew she was a goner. Seriously, she thought to herself, I'm caving to puppy dog eyes? Damn it, I am, she thought surprisingly as she looked at him one more time.

"Fine," she acquiesced. "But like your Aunt, you're going to bed now," she told him.

Peter scoffed. "Come on, I'm not even that tired," he argued.

Natasha shook her head. "It's been a long day. I had a long flight, and we need fresh heads if we're going to tackle this in the morning. So if you want me to sleep here, that's my price."

"Are you seriously telling me to go to bed?" Peter asked in shock.

"Grab me a blanket a pillow, and then, yes, off to bed," she smiled at him while snapping her fingers and pointing in the direction of his room.

Peter let out an exasperated breath and then got up. A minute later she was watching him begrudgingly walk towards his room. "Goodnight, Pete," she said in singsong, trying not to laugh at his reluctance to go to bed.

"Night," she heard him call back before listening to his door close softly.

She sat back down on the couch, spread the blanket over herself, and let her head fall to the pillow. She thought about the agitation in Peter's voice hours ago. It was the only thing keeping her from setting the autopilot on the quinjet and trying to sleep on the ride over. She then thought back on the look on May's face, the confusion, the anger – the hurt. Whatever I tell her tomorrow better be damn good, she said internally. Lastly, she thought back to the last few minutes with Peter. She was glad that he had called her, it would've been better if it had been for more enjoyable circumstances, but after a little over a week, it was nice to hear his voice.

"When the hell did I get so damn attached?" she asked herself before closing her eyes. She didn't dwell on the question long since sleep came faster than she thought it would and she was sleeping soundly before she knew it.

* * *

May woke up the next morning, a slight throbbing in her head, but nothing that a big cup of coffee couldn't fix. She dragged herself out of bed and into her bathroom. After a quick brushing of her teeth and washing of her face, she headed out of her bedroom and into the hallway. Immediately, she could tell something was off. The air wasn't bland. It smelled of bacon and eggs, bread that was toasting, and, most importantly of all at the moment, coffee. And the kitchen wasn't empty. Standing at the stove was a familiar looking blonde.

"Morning," Natasha said gently, not knowing if May was a morning person.

"So, last night wasn't some really messed up dream, then?" May asked in repressed frustration.

"Sorry," Natasha said softly as she walked over to the coffee maker and poured a cup. She offered it and, after a small second of apprehension, May took it.

"You're a spy. And an Avenger. And you're someone who…never mind," May let the thought trail off as she didn't want to start anything this early. "And you cook, too?" she finished, taking a drink of the coffee.

"When you spend your time moving from safe house to safe house, you learn to make your own food, or you starve since there aren't any pizza joints in the mountains. Or the woods. Or wherever. And, I figured making you guys breakfast was the least I could do after the shock you got last night, and for Peter letting me sleep here."

"You slept here?" May asked confused.

"Peter offered after he found where I was going to sleep. Long story short, he didn't want me waking up in a jet on a roof," Natasha explained when May raised an eyebrow.

Now that May found herself more or less waking up, and processing the morning and the situation better, she looked over at the stove and into the pan that Natasha had moved back to. She was right about the bacon and eggs, but instead of seeing plated bacon and eggs scrambling in the pan, she saw Natasha folding over what she now realized was an omelet containing the aforementioned bacon, along with green peppers, tomatoes, and what looked like onions, though they were too pale to really see. The sound of the toaster popping the bread out broke May's reverie while Natasha grabbed the two slices and plated them. She then plated the omelet and handed the plate to May.

"I was going to wake Peter first, but you beat him to the punch, so…"

May took the plate and sat at the table. She watched as Natasha went to the refrigerator and pulled out a small plate filled with cut up fruit and placed it in front of May. "Wow, you went all out," May commented.

Natasha shrugged. "I was up early…habit."

Natasha then went back to stove and started cracking a few eggs into a bowl. She started to whisk them, the sound of the fork clinking against the bowl the only sound until May broke the silence.

"How often do you look in on Peter?"

"Not as much as I'd like," Natasha told her as she transferred the beaten eggs from the bowl to the pan. She began moving them around until they covered the bottom of it. After letting the eggs cook, she began adding the same ingredients in May's omelet to the current one. "Pete is…really determined," she told May after finding the right words. "Despite what happened in Germany, I could tell right away that he was not going to stop being Spider-man. And I figured that was going to become a priority for him since Tony was going to let him keep the suit."

" _You_ really couldn't stop him?" May said through a mouthful of her breakfast. "This is amazing by the way," she complimented as she pointed to the omelet with her fork.

"Thank you. And no, I couldn't stop him. At least not in any of my usual ways since he's fifteen," Natasha replied. "The most I could do was ask and hope he had enough common sense to listen to me."

"A fifteen year old – even one as usually mature at Pete – acting with common sense? You're not around teenagers much are you?" May asked glibly.

"Just one, and she's older," Natasha answered. "She doesn't need me to look after as much. And some friends of mine have kind of stepped in as her surrogate parents."

"Is that what you see yourself as?" May asked. Natasha paused in cooking the omelet, and just let the question sink in. She heard Steve in her head reminding her over and over that she wasn't Peter's mother. Then there was the way Sam joked about how it was nice to see her go all motherly whenever Peter's name came up. She almost laughed as she remembered the way Wanda groaned in frustration after her quip about wishing her and Peter were closer in age. _"Nat, stop," Wanda said, "honestly, you sound like a Mom trying to set up her son."_

"He treats me more like a…big sister," Natasha told May with a shrugging of her shoulders.

"Probably. But that's not what I asked," May reminded her.

Natasha went back to cooking, feeling an awkward stillness filling the space between May and herself. And just like that, Natasha realized that she and May were back to what was really between them from last night. She knew May was upset at Peter over keeping secrets, and feeling like he didn't trust her. But that wasn't what May had going on with her. After discovering that Peter was going to someone else, Natasha knew that May was feeling left out over the fact that Peter had someone else to confide in. It wasn't a feeling that Natasha ever wanted to make the woman feel, and truth be told, deep down, Natasha knew that it might be there if her relationship with Peter was found out.

"I'm not trying to replace you," Natasha finally answered. "I…I just didn't think that…"

"It was possible to get so damn attached?" May finished for her. Natasha looked over at her, surprised at the thought May concluded. "My husband and I took Peter in when he was six, after his parents died. You want to talk about awkward? Ben and me never really considered children of our own…like ever. And now, our nephew gets dropped into our laps."

"What was that like?"

"Touch and go at first," May replied. "But eventually, we found a rhythm. And it worked pretty well until Ben…," May continued, stopping when she found it still difficult to say out loud what happened to her husband.

"Peter mentioned what happened," Natasha told her, letting the woman know she didn't need to finish for her sake.

"Peter has this way of growing on you, though," May said after a second.

"Yes he does," Natasha concurred, drawing laughter from the both of them.

"After a while, things went from Peter staying here with us, and Ben and I feeling overwhelmed to…"

"Feeling like you can't imagine Peter _not_ being your life," Natasha finished this time.

"Definitely," May concurred.

"Who's making breakfast?" they heard coming from the hallway, followed a second later by a still sleepy looking Peter.

"Natasha is apparently," May answered him as he sat down at the table. Natasha then set a plate in front of Peter, as well as her own at the table.

"And you're okay with that?" he asked May.

"Completely."

"And what about last night?" Peter asked his aunt as he felt like the weighted mass that enveloped the apartment last night seemed to be cleared away.

"I still think that we all need to talk about it a little more, but…I think I have a better understanding of things. Though, you are not off the hook for keeping being a superhero from me," she said with a pointed fork for emphasis.

Peter groaned a little and looked at Natasha for help. "Don't look at me, you and I still need to have that nice long talk about the ferry incident," Natasha smiled as she began to eat her breakfast.

Oh God, they're getting along now, Peter thought. How long was I asleep, he further mused as he wondered what things were going to be like for him from now on with those two.


End file.
